Stillest Hour

"Still, I can say that I have a most precious memory which keeps unfolding itself in all that I do or plan to do. I do not live without being reminded of the glimpse of God's graciousness that I saw in my solitude, of the ray of light that broke through my darkness, of the gentle voice that spoke in my silence, and of the soft breeze that touched me in my stillest hour." ~Henri Nouwen

My "stillest hour". Twelve years ago today. The day my dad took his last breath.

But "God's graciousness"..it was there.

I have heard the audible voice of God two times in my life. One led to my rededicating my life to following Jesus. 20 years ago. The other, it was on this day. April 14th, 2002. Twelve years ago.

Crowded around my dad's gurney in the ER. with so much noise, so much spinning around in my mind, my head and my heart. It was time, the doctor's said. We needed to make a decision on when resuscitation efforts should cease. Standing there with Doug, my mom and my sister, looking at these hard working doctors and nurses doing CPR on my dad... it just got quiet. Not silent. Muffled, I guess. And then I heard it. God's voice.

"I love you. It's going to be okay. Trust Me"

God knew what I needed to hear in that moment. The supernatural peace that came over me in that moment could only be from Him.

I don't remember who exactly made the decision... it may have been the doctor, who fought so hard to keep my dad alive, and who maybe saw our family in anguish at the end and knew we couldn't possibly make that decision.... but CPR ceased. My dad faded into glory.

The worst day of my life. Hands down

I used to dread this day every year. Anxiety, tears, and heaviness came hard and fast on this day the first years after my dad's death. But as I grow older, as my children grow older, and as life goes on without his physical presence in my life, I am starting to realize how "precious" the memory of his death is. It was the last day God granted him on this earth, and a day and a time that God was clearly present (click here for more on that). My dad's death is with me and will stick with me for all my days, no matter how much time passes. It is a part of who I am, an experience and a journey that keeps unfolding in my life in many different ways. I think that's the way God wants it. And I am okay with that now.

The past couple of years I have had a number of friends lose a parent (or both parents). What a privilege to be able to come along side someone, having lost a parent, to offer a ear or a hug or a kind word of understanding. Every story is different, but the loss is still acute and painful.. and to be the "voice of experience" has been just as comforting and encouraging to me as (hopefully) it has been for those on the receiving end of my understanding. This has been a "ray of light that broke thru my darkness".

Turning something so awful into something that can be used for good. Living out Romans 8:28 ("And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose."). Trying to show others (and reminding myself) that God is real and good and present, grieving with us yet offering hope. That is what I am trying to do now with the memories of this day.

"Grief never ends. It changes. It's a passage.. not a place to stay. Grief  is not a sign of weakness nor a lack of faith. It is the price of love" ~author unknown.

The loss of my dad has left a huge void in my life, but its effect on me is changing and evolving. I miss him so very much still, but this day... and the events of this day 12 years ago... are not something that I dread thinking about anymore. I want to remember. I don't want to forget.

God's graciousness
God's gentile voice
A ray of light breaking thru out of that dark time.
A precious memory.

My stillest hour.



I love you dad. I miss you so. Always.....